


Panikhida

by 0positiv



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4968370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0positiv/pseuds/0positiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen and Nikola take a journey to Nikola's home town but the reason is far from pleasant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panikhida

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanctitatem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctitatem/gifts).



> For the lovely Sanctitatem who wanted Helen and Nikola in Serbia :)
> 
> AN: Nothing mine, Helen and Nikola belong to who ever owns Sanctuary and the Tesla family belongs to itself.

By the time they finally reached Smiljan they were of course much too late for the funeral service. The letter telling him of his father’s death had taken two days to reach him in Oxford and even setting out the very next day by train it was another day and a half before they arrived. A proper Christian Orthodox wake might last for three days yet by the time his only surviving son arrived the priest had already been buried.

 

It was uncommonly cold for April and low hanging clouds threatened rain. _A fitting time to visit a cemetery_ , Nikola thought. And what a picture they would strike were anyone around to see Helen and him, arm in arm, dressed in black from head to toe. Helen had even donned a hat with a flimsy excuse for a veil. They stopped in front of the only fresh grave. It was marked by  a plain and slightly crooked wooden cross reading _Milutin Tesla *1819–17.04.1879_ , which was to be replaced later by a much more fitting gravestone, his mother had assured him.

 

They stood in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. “It happened very fast, my mother said, a stroke most likely. We should go back to the house, you must be cold.” His voice sounded matter of fact, maybe even cold, revealing nothing of what might be going on inside his head. Despite his words Nikola did not move, did not even look at the woman by his side. His father, the man who, even though he would have chosen a different path for his son, had made it possible for Nikola to follow his passions, was dead. The body lying in this grave, clad in his priestly robes and rotting already, was not his father. Not anymore.

 

Finally Helen gently pulled him away and out of the cemetery. If he was honest with himself Nikola was glad that they’d missed the funeral. The whole town would have been there and he was not quite sure he could have tolerated that much social interaction at a time like this. Too many of the woman were terrible huggers. He still remembered the painful cheek-pinching he was subjected to when he was a child.

 

The house wasn’t far and he could already see the firelight flickering in the windows as they passed the church where his father used to preach. His mother and sisters would be waiting for them. Even though his two older sisters were already married their husbands did not begrudge them the time they spent with their now widowed mother.

 

Marica, his youngest sister, stilled lived in the house they had been born in. She took their coats as they entered and pushed them into the living room where Milka, Angelina and his mother were waiting. Dinner was a solemn affair with little small talk and soon Duka Tesla excused herself to go to bed and pray. Helen offered to help with the washing up but had no chance against three Serbian young ladies who were very determined that guests did not wash the dishes.

 

So Nikola and Helen ended up sitting alone in front of the fire. “You have a very nice family”, Helen said and nudged Nikola’s shoulder with her own. “And they love you a lot. Why do you not visit them more often?”

 

Instead of answering Nikola stood up and fetched them two glasses and a bottle of rakija one of the neighbours had given to his mother. He filled both glasses nearly to the brim and handed one to Helen. “Živeli. To my father, may he rest in peace with my brother.” He clinked their glasses together then downed his in one big swallow.

 

Helen, sipping the strong liquor much more slowly, watched the flames. “You never told me you had a brother.”

 

Nikola refilled his glass before replying. “He died a long time ago, I think I was about 5. Dane was 12. He went riding and something spooked the horse. Some people think I did it, that I scared the horse on purpose, but I didn’t. They are just superstition idiots who think someone born during a thunderstorm must be evil.”

 

“I am sure you didn’t do it, you were just a little child.” Helen smiled fondly. “I am sure you were adorable, too. Tiny little Nikola, all of five years old, and already a genius, I bet.” She ruffled his hair and leaned against him.

 

Nikola quickly straightened his hair again and scoffed. “Of course I was a genius. I was much cleverer than my teachers which, naturally, made them accuse me of cheating on my tests. As if I’d ever have to cheat on something so simple.”

 

He emptied his glass again and refilled both glasses, even though Helen’s was not even half way empty. “I get it from my mother’s side, you know. She is one of the most inventive people you’ll ever meet and she has never had any formal education at all. Everything she knows she taught herself or was taught by her own mother. She has invented half of the household appliances in here.”

 

He gestured a little too grandly towards the kitchen and part of his drink ended up on the carpet. He cursed quietly in Serbian then looked furtively around if anyone had observed his little mishap. “Don’t tell the girls I spilled something on the carpet, will you? Last time they made me buy a new carpet.” Of course the last time he spilled something on the carpet it had left a much more nasty stain than a few drops of rakija. But really, he couldn’t have performed the experiment in his room, the lighting was just so much better in here….

 

Helen grinned into her glass and swore not to tell anyone. A small grey cat came wandering in and wound itself around Helen’s ankles mewling to be petted. Helen obliged and soon found a purring ball of fur occupying her lap and shedding grey hair all over her black dress.

 

“Mačka, get out.” Nikola made a half-hearted shooing motion at the cat who of course didn’t even dignify it with a reaction. Still absentmindedly scratching the feline behind the ears Helen looked back at Nikola wondering which questions to ask and which would be too personal. She finally settled on: “So, why aren’t you a priest, if your father was a priest?”

 

Nikola sighed. “Oh, my father was always nagging me to become a priest, no matter how often I told him that it was not what I wished to do with my life. He did not think being an engineer was a worthy profession, you see? But when I was 17 and home from school I got cholera. I don’t remember much but apparently it wasn’t pretty and I very nearly died a few times. I think the though of losing another son nearly drove my father mad and he, as my mother tells it, knelt down beside my bed, took my hand and promised me that I could chose whatever career I fancied if I just survived. Well, I obviously survived and you know the rest.”

 

By now Nikola’s glass was empty again and his words had become a bit slurred. The bottle also was nearly empty after Nikola refilled his glass again. Helen thought he would have quite the hangover tomorrow morning. “My sisters of course think I stayed sick on purpose until my father promised me this because I’m apparently stubborn like that.” He scoffs again. “If anyone is stubborn it’s them. No one can sulk like my sisters, I tell you.”

 

Helen smirked. “Oh, I am sure you learned from the best then.” Nikola tried to glare at her which was much harder than it should be since he seemed to be not quite able to focus his eyes. “Helen, I should really be offended that you say I sulk. I do not sulk, I am just sometimes put out for a small amount of time and prefer to not leave my room…or see anyone…or speak to anyone….”

 

Chuckling Helen patted his knee. “Yes, of course, that’s not sulking at all.”

 

Nikola downed his glass again, spilling a bit on his waistcoat in the process, then blinked at Helen confusedly. “I seem to be unable to quite remember what we just talked about…maybe I should retire….if you’ll excuse me?”

 

Helen pulled him back down as he tried to stand up. “Oh no, you don’t. You won’t be able to even find your room with the state you’re in. You’ll just sit here and keep me company until your sisters are done with the washing up and can help me put you to bed.”

 

Nikola obediently sat back down and leaned against Helen. He put one arm around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder. “Will you come to bed with me?” Helen smiled fondly. “Nikola Tesla, only you could preposition me in your own mother’s home at a time like this. And no, I will not come to bed with you, silly man.” She kissed his forehead and pushed away his other hand that had settled on her knee. The cat obviously took objection to Helen no longer petting her and jumped off her lap to stalk over to the kitchen in search of leftovers.

 

It didn’t take long after that for Nikola’s sisters to come back from the kitchen and find their brother half asleep leaning against his guest. Giggling the girls helped free Helen from his embrace and pulled him upright. They slapped his cheeks slightly to wake him up beforehand and he grumbled something in Serbian Helen didn’t quite catch which earned him a slightly harder slap from his oldest sister.

 

Nikola was more than a little unsteady as Milka and Angelina helped him to his room. While they stripped off his jacket, waistcoat and cravat then dropped him on the bed Marica prepared one of the spare beds for Helen. Since the older sisters would go home to their husbands there was no problem with putting up one guest for the night. And having Helen stay in Nikola’s room would have been completely out of the question anyway even if their brother was much too drunk to be any danger to a lady’s honour.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Please excuse any mistakes I made with Nikola's family, the timeline or Orthodox funeral customs. I did my research as far as the internet would allow and we all know how reliable that is ;))


End file.
